A Game of Risk
by AlwaysPadfoot
Summary: Haunted by the echoes of of Tom Riddle's soul, something happens between Ginny and him late one night in the Gryffindor Common Room. Rated T for minor language.


**AN:** Prompts will be displayed at the bottom to avoid them potentially giving away things.

* * *

 **A Game of Risk**

 **AlwaysPadfoot**

* * *

"I've come to the decision that _he_ cannot possibly be me; it's impossible."

Ginny sighed heavily into the Defence Against the Dark Arts book she was scouring for information. Tom did have a dreadful habit of talking at the worst possible time — like when she had a two-foot essay due first thing in the morning. He was peering at today's Daily Prophet skeptically, his eyes narrowed.

"I mean, what kind of sensationalist nonsense is this paper printing? There is no way…"

"... that heinous, inhuman creature could possibly be me in sixty odd years," Ginny finished, mimicking his voice in a long-perfected impression.

She wearily scribbled out a few more lines of homework and looked up at him. His lips were pressed together — a look of annoyance that Ginny was quite familiar with — and he was leaning back against the stone mantelpiece of the Gryffindor Common Room.

"I'm sorry," he replied sardonically, "but I would quite clearly never waste magical life like this degenerate does."

"Yes, I know," she said impatiently. "You tell me every time your name is mentioned in the paper."

"It is **not** my name," he growled in response.

She rolled her eyes, her attention drifting back to the essay as he paced across the empty common room, muttering furiously.

Tom had stayed with Ginny even after what had happened down in the Chamber back in her first year at Hogwarts. Out of fear of continuing to not make friends in her second year, she had chosen to pretend he didn't exist, and this had worked perfectly for both of them for a long time. Unfortunately, things had begun to change once You-Know-Who came back to life, and they had been drawn together once more.

At first, she had been positive it was another ploy to manipulate her, but this time it had truly felt different. She'd watched his reaction when Cedric Diggory came back dead; she'd seen his shock when not just Muggleborns went missing, but Purebloods did too. Ginny was sure that things had changed because their relationship had begun to shift and adapt. Teenage Tom and You-Know-Who appeared to be inherently different in their mindsets — it had softened her hatred. She often wondered where the change from Tom to Voldemort had happened, what had caused it. She would never find out; the Tom in her head, the one she now hallucinated, had never aged a day physically since the Chamber.

Tom stopped pacing when the portrait swung open and two boys, Jacob and Martin, came in. It was very late — gone two am — so they must have been somewhere they shouldn't have been. As always, Ginny saw Tom's eyes snap to them, his disgust for them clearly evident in his expression. The two had never been the nicest fifth year boys and their favourite pastime was irritating her.

"Alright, Weasley?" Jacob grinned. "Studying for OWLs already?"

She huffed. "No, I'm just ensuring Snape doesn't curse me for not doing my essay — for first lesson. The one that's due in about seven hours' time."

Jacob's face paled and Tom rolled his eyes at the dripping sarcasm in Ginny's voice.

"Someone hasn't completed their homework," he observed.

"No shit," Ginny muttered before meeting Jacob's gaze. "How unsurprising. Why don't you stay awake and get it done — that way, the rest of the tower can get some sleep without your horrific snoring. It sounds like an Erumpent's mating call even from the Great Hall."

"Oh shut up, Weasley," Jacob huffed. "Just because I'm not a boring prude who prefers homework to fun."

Tom bared his teeth slightly, glaring at them, looking like — if he could — he would curse them.

Ginny, however, stuck her middle finger up at the two. "Fuck off to bed; 'least I'm going to pass my OWLs in May."

The two boys muttered to one another, too slow to come up with a retort, and then slunk away up the stairs to the dormitories, leaving Ginny alone with Tom.

"You are so…"

"Eloquent?" Ginny suggested with a smirk.

Tom's lips curled upward for a moment. "Yes, naturally; that's what I was going to say."

They both knew it wasn't, but that didn't necessarily matter — it had became their way of communicating over the last few months. Their conversations had become dry, sarcastic, and, in Ginny's opinion, actually very entertaining. Besides, Tom had proven himself useful when she needed a little extra help with her History of Magic essays.

She needed to finish the conclusion of this essay soon; her eyes were heavy with sleep and she kept scratching out words. The nib was bent slightly, which was causing her all sorts of problems and making it very difficult to finish her work by staining the page with blue splodges.

In the end, the particular motion of scribbling out every other word got her what she was intending; Tom came up behind her and did that thing where he scrutinised the conclusion she was trying to write. Once he did that, he practically dictated the perfect conclusion, and Ginny finished her essay in half the time it would have taken had she been alone. Closing the book with a satisfying finality, she slumped back into the armchair she'd been in for the last four hours and relaxed as she tried to summon the energy to go up to the dormitories to sleep.

Tom was looking particularly pensive; Ginny suspected he was still hung up on the fact that his real self was a complete and utter psychopath.

"You okay there? You look a little pale for a non-existent entity," Ginny asked, purely out of curiosity.

She liked to know what thoughts were going through his head — the more she knew about him, the better she could predict what he was going to do or say.

"Yes, I'm fine," he said after a short pause. "You should get some sleep before tomorrow — oh, wait, it already is tomorrow. I am bound to an insomniac, lucky me."

He rose to his feet at the same time Ginny pushed her work into the satchel by her side; then, he headed towards the portrait.

"Where are you off to hide whilst you're sulking?" she asked, thinking longingly about her four-poster bed and how she really wanted to be asleep.

"Library," he said simply. "Sleep well."

With those final words, he faded and disappeared from the common room. Well used to his mood swings by now, Ginny shrugged to herself before she crept upstairs. She was careful not to wake up Jennifer, who slept so lightly that a falling pin would wake her some nights, as she quickly undressed and collapsed into bed.

Exhausted, Ginny fell asleep in record time, only to be woken up abruptly at ten to five by Tom hissing her name.

"What the fuck?" she groaned — before quickly realising she was surrounded by sleeping students.

To her right, Jennifer stirred, turning over under a large mass of sheets, and then settling as the two stared at her, unmoving. Ginny didn't know why he had stopped — he wouldn't wake her up. She shifted and glared at him in the dim light, hoping — at the very least — that he could comprehend the intent behind it without her having to speak. He gestured for her to follow and she threw him her most lethal glare. It turned into a heated staring competition until, finally, Ginny realised he wasn't going to leave her alone. Irritated, she threw the covers back to make clear her frustration and dragged a jumper on over her pyjamas.

Tom lead the way and she nearly had to jog to keep up with the pace he was setting. There was something in his body language — and in the brief facial expressions she'd seen — that suggested that Tom was either scared or had a really bad idea. Ginny couldn't tell; she was far too tired for this shit so early in the morning.

"Tom," she whined as they reached the abandoned common room, "can you just tell me what is going on?"

"Let's face facts, Ginny. This monster," he sneered as he pointed to the Prophet, "is not what I ever intended to be."

"Yes, I know —" Ginny began.

Tom held his hand up. "Let me finish. Please."

She scowled, but since he'd actually used a polite word for a change, Ginny granted him some leeway and crossed her arms to listen.

"Magic is a gift; it is power, and strength, and everything between that," he began after taking a deep breath. "I realise now it is downright hypocritical of this twisted version of me to despise Muggles and Muggleborns when my own lineage is half-Muggle, half-magical. This path of Horcruxes has destroyed _his_ sanity."

After Tom had explained the concept of Horcruxes to her some time ago, Ginny never wanted to hear the word again, and yet he'd managed sidle it in.

"I think we — well, you — can reverse it."

Ginny stared blankly at him for a long moment, sure she had misheard, before Tom said her name. She brushed off the initial shock and ran a hand through her bright red hair.

 _Was this a dream? Tom Riddle — the boy who destroyed her first year — wanted to fix things?_

"Are you serious?" she breathed.

Her gaze locked with his and Tom nodded confidently. "I started this; I'm going to help finish it."

Ginny pursed her lips. "You're so determined, and yet, I'm not sure I believe you. Would you be willing to make an Unbreakable Vow?"

"That's not possible —" he began.

"It is; there is a way," Ginny replied.

Ginny had learnt so much since coming to Hogwarts, but Unbreakable Vows, and the magic behind them, had long been a curiosity of hers. She'd read about myths of vows between ghosts and wizards — as long as both entities had a soul, a vow was achievable. There was a long stretch of silence; the atmosphere was tense as they stood in the dull light of dawn that was starting to pour through the high windows. Ginny was so sure Tom would back down; that this was all just a wider plan for something else.

"Okay," he said. "I will make a vow with you."

"You will?" Ginny asked, one eyebrow raised. "Even though your pain would be endless should you break it?"

"It never crossed my mind to break a promise with you; Unbreakable Vow or not, it would cause pain either way."

The shock was clearly evident on Ginny's face for Tom to say such a thing. He stepped forward towards her — looking more corporeal than he ever had before — knelt down and extended his hand out.

Being brave hadn't always been Ginny's strongest personality trait, but she made up for that by taking risks. From climbing the tallest oaks, to sending that mortifying Valentine's gnome to Harry, to going to the Department of Mysteries at the end of last year. She took risks; this would be the most chaotic and reckless one yet, but she'd made up her mind.

This was something she had to at least try.

The next few minutes were almost a blur. She knelt down on the rough material of the rug, and, somehow, they managed to clasp hands (despite how ludicrous that sounded). Bright white filled the air around them as strings of gold appeared from nowhere. They twisted around Tom and Ginny's fingers; their hands, wrists, and forearms were bound together by powerful magic.

 _I, Ginevra Molly Weasley, ask you to vow to do anything and everything in your power to reverse the dark magic cast by Voldemort — your future self._

 _I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, do vow to…_

The words were firm whispers to Ginny's ears as tendrils of golden fire spiralled out around them as they swore to fight against Voldemort. When Tom then swore to protect her in the process, it only seemed fair to swear it back. As that clause was added to the vow, another string of vibrant gold wound around them. Finally, they fell apart, both wide-eyed and seemingly surprised at the undiscussed vow. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

Eventually, Ginny cleared her throat and went to stand up, smile on her face. "So, am I allowed to sleep now?"

Tom's long fingers were splayed in the rug that he was sat on top of and he was looking down as though he hadn't even heard anything she'd said. Ginny frowned, mildly concerned, before deciding to play it cool.

"I'd like to get at least another hour's sleep and not be down here when Jacob comes down to scribble out a last-minute essay for Snape," she continued.

Tom huffed in disgust. "I don't know why you waste your breath on those parasites; I would teach them such a lesson."

"I can look after myself," Ginny retorted. "No one can fight my battles for me. Besides, they're just idiots; they don't deserve the time of day."

Looking completely dumbfounded, Tom got to his feet, his shoes scraping against the carpet. Ginny found not the expression on his face, but his movements odd. He seemed to be making an awful lot of noise for someone who was usually so silent he made her jump regularly. She shook that feeling off and refocused on Tom's bewildered expression.

"What?" she demanded.

"Your attitude is just so dissimilar to the women in my era at Hogwarts," he answered. "It's admirable — quite frankly."

Compliments and an Unbreakable Vow? All within the hour? Ginny was positive he must be having a midlife crisis — something along those lines anyway.

She pulled a face in the half-light.

"You're being ridiculous now; did you hit your head when you fell back?" she asked. "Or has the magic gone to your head? Because you're not acting like your usual grumpy self."

"Perhaps not," he said softly, "although what I am about to do is disgustingly impulsive."

Before Ginny could even ask what that meant, he took her hand and pulled her towards him. His lips locked with hers and Ginny's eyes widened at the soft touch of his skin before she quickly pulled back.

"Tom," she breathed. "There's this little thing called consent; you're supposed to ask before you do things like that."

For once, Tom actually looked lost for words. There was still air between them, their faces just a couple of inches apart, their hands still clasped together. His dark eyes were wide, and Ginny was sure that her heart could be heard thudding from the Quidditch Pitch.

"Ginny. I," he began, mildly affronted, "cannot believe that is what you've chosen to focus on."

Then, she felt herself lean forward, pushing up onto her tiptoes to be close to his lips again, and shushed him. She could feel his breath, which was warm against her cheek, and this felt so different than normal (if you were to believe that hallucinations were normal). Pulling his hand around her, she pressed the palm of her hand against his shirt, and then blinked slowly. Tom opened his mouth to say something and she seized the opportunity to return his kiss. He pulled her against him soon after; they temporarily forgot about the vow at the taste of each other's lips and the feel of one another's skin.

When they broke apart, there was a long silence like they were in the void of space — just them and no one else.

This was another risk Ginny had taken that was sure to have repercussions. And yet, despite the feelings of exasperation she had towards Tom Riddle, she felt as though it had only been a matter of time before this happened. The only thing that finally struck her as odd was that all of a sudden she could touch him; she could feel him. He was no longer moving around soundlessly like he had before.

"Ginny, I think something has happened..." Tom said, still marginally breathless.

"I was just thinking that."

Tom was fully corporeal suddenly. And if that had changed for her… she didn't want to voice what they both might be thinking. Would things change with other people too?

"Excuse me. You're not a Gryffindor!"

Tom and Ginny span towards the dormitory stairs, where one of the seventh-year prefects was stood with her arms folded. Before either of them could speak, Ginny reacted instinctively, casting a spell before anything else could happen. This caused the prefect to drop to the floor, sound asleep.

"She could see you," Ginny hissed at Tom.

"Fascinating," he responded, not looking at her. "Absolutely impossible, but completely fascinating."

"Earth to Tom," Ginny snapped. "You can be seen; what do we do?"

For once, Tom didn't have a plan; what was even worse was, nor did Ginny. They had a massive problem, and yet she could still feel her lips tingling; it was distracting.

She was going to have to wing it; she was going to have to take another risk.

* * *

 **Competition:** QLFC Round One

 **Prompt:** Write your Seeker's NOTP - Tom/Ginny

 **Word Count:** 2869 (including AN's and titles)

 **AN:** O. written as OWLs because of ffn hating me.


End file.
